Alpha
by Cerulean Musings
Summary: Tumblr prompt: Angry Kiss. Wynn groaned at the sight of him, as she descended the short set of stairs in front of the diner. She didn't need this, not now. Not after a particularly heavy disagreement with Pop about the hours for the diner. Reggie/OC


_**Alpha**_

Wynn groaned at the sight of him, as she descended the short set of stairs in front of the diner. She didn't need this, not now. Not after a particularly heavy disagreement with Pop about the hours for the diner. Surely it wasn't unreasonable to suggest that they cut back on having the Chock'lit Shoppe being run 24/7. Especially with a murderer on the loose. But Pop insisted the hours stay the same, that _they_ stay the same. _As if that were possible_ , Wynn had thought at the end of their discussion. But she didn't push it anymore after that. Pop was a steadfast man. It's where she got it from. And if he wanted to work all night and all day to make sure the people of Riverdale had a safe place to eat, he'd do it. Still, hiring extra help couldn't be a _bad_ thing, right?

"Didn't I tell you to leave hours ago?" Wynn asked as she approached her bike, still chained up to the rack. Not that it mattered; it wasn't anything worth sneezing at. Anyone who wanted to steal it would be lucky to break $50 for it.

"Nice to see you too," Reggie said dryly.

"That's the thing — it's not," Wynn stated, the once dormant fire flickering inside of her once more.

He shoved his hands into his Bulldogs varsity jacket. They were roomy, big enough to hold another set of hands to warm up on a particularly cold day. Wynn knew that firsthand.

"Seriously? Get the stick out of your ass, Wynnie. I'm only— "

" _What?_ " she snarled, whirling around to face him. He pressed his lips together in a line. "Only what? Trying to protect me? Is that what you call that measuring contest you did in there? Because that's not protecting me! That's interfering with my _job!"  
_

Reggie scoffed. "You shouldn't have to serve Serpent scum."

"They're _customers!_ Sweet Pea and Fangs and Toni didn't do _anything_ to you!"

"And don't they have their own place to hang out?" Reggie continued, ignoring her comment. Wynn made a noise of indignation and crossed her arms. "The Whyte Wyrm? Some rundown shack they can slither into?"

Wynn groaned. "You're ridiculous."

"No, what's ridiculous is having them walk our halls! Take our classes! Share our space! They have their own places to fuck up! Riverdale is _ours_."

"Oh god, is this _still_ about Sweet Pea owning you on the basketball court?" Wynn asked, studying his face.

"Wha—no!"

His hesitation, a brief slip of the Mantle Mask, confirmed her guess. She pressed a closed fist to her mouth as she took in a sharp breath; it was better to ground herself in such a way than get in trouble with Pop for witnessing her socking Reggie across the face for being so…so… _Reggie._

She removed her fist from her mouth, unclenched her hand and kept it extended as if to keep a barrier between them, and said slowly, her words wrapped in a rage-induced quiver, "You're _so_ unbelievable."

"Glad you haven't forgotten." His cocky swagger returned in the blink of an eye, she was almost impressed.

"What I've _forgotten_ until _just now_ was why I broke up with you," Wynn replied. Reggie blinked rapidly and Wynn took his apparent stunning to take a step closer to him; she wanted to be up-close–and-personal to hear what she had to say. Sometimes being close was the only way to get through to him. "I am _not_ your property, Reggie Mantle. I don't need your protection, Or whatever that was that you claimed to be for my benefit. Got it?" She jabbed her finger into his chest for good measure. "You fucked me over tonight because of your macho attitude. _Don't_ come between me and my work!"

"If that's what this is about…" Reggie reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He yanked out a few bills and held it out to her. "Here, then. More than they could ever afford to tip you, I'm sure."

She slapped his hand away. The bills fell onto the ground, landing in a shallow puddle leftover from the previous rain. The neon lights bathed the puddle in an eerie glow, amplified by the darkness surrounding them.

"That's not what this is about and you know it!"

He threw his arms into the air. "I don't know what you want from me, Wynnie."

Wynn growled, the sound of frustration amplified in the near-empty lot. "I _want_ you to leave me alone! I want you to let me talk to who I want to talk to and do my job. We're not all born with silver spoons in our mouths; _some_ of us actually have to work! And I can't do that with you sniffing around like…like…like some sort of _watchdog!_ "

"I prefer _alpha_ ," Reggie said, followed by a short series of barking. _Of course._

Wynn lifted an eyebrow and made a show of looking him from head to toe. "Really? Because all I see is a beta," she stated. To drive her point home, she lowered her voice, "A beta threatened by another pack coming onto his scene, barking any chance that he gets to appear bigger and tougher than he _actually_ is."

A muscle in his jaw twitched when he clenched his teeth together. She hit a sore spot she knew—both from his reaction and from experience—and maybe that was beneath her but she didn't care. She was tired, her feet ached, and she'd barely made a decent amount of tips that day thanks in part to him scaring off some of her customers and because of that drifter who thought sugar packets were the right way to go for a tip because "hot chocolate needs a bit of sweetener". _Gross._ She still saw his gross smile in her mind.

Wynn cleared her throat and turned her attention back to her bike. "So, if you _don't mind_ — "

She wasn't even sure what the end of her sentence was going to be, not that Reggie gave her a chance to come up an ending. He grasped her chin, turned her head, and kissed her with such ferocity that she gasped and took a step away from him. He was too fast for her, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against his body.

Her head swam and her heart raced and all common sense left her mind as she stood on her tiptoes, gripped the thick sleeves of his jacket, and kissed him back. Maybe he hadn't been getting much action lately— _doubtful_ —or maybe he had something to prove, either way Reggie's hot, frenzied, hungry kisses raining on her mouth and face and neck left her wanting, no, needing more. More of his touch, more of his kisses, more of his attention. All fire, all fight drained out of her and she vaguely heard herself say something about Pop being able to see them.

But she heard his response, loud and clear: "So let's go somewhere he can't see."

She shouldn't have agreed, shouldn't have said yes, but he had a way of making her throw all caution to the wind and just go along for the ride. He had a way of making Pop side-eye him and question her decisions. That's where she got it from.

But he also had a way of making her forget about her stress and worries, making her feel important and needed. He had a way of making her insatiable.

And that's where she tended to go wrong.

* * *

 **A/N - This is also a prompt from tumblr featuring my OC, Wynn Tate, and Reggie with the them of angry kiss. Please let me know what you all think!**

 **~C.M.**


End file.
